


waiting for a glimpse to appear

by pomegarnet



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Affairs, Bars, Biphobia, Depression, Dialogue Heavy, F/F, Homophobia, Infidelity, Nonbinary Angelica, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Polyamory, Post-Divorce, Racism, Sexism, Single Mom AU, cursing, its here its time!!!!, tags will be updated as time goes on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-26 08:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7566655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pomegarnet/pseuds/pomegarnet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She is tired.</p><p>She is young.</p><p>She is trifling.</p><p>She is dependable.</p><p>She is miserable.</p><p>They are enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1: Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> its finally here,,, its been three thousand years,,,
> 
> title is from "i dont know" from ghost quartet

She is tired.

 

Elizabeth Schuyler can not leave the custody of her own home without being bombarded by the lure of the media’s questions --  _ ‘Do you still talk to him?’ ‘What about your children?’ ‘What was the purpose of the divorce?’ ‘Was he cheating-- were  _ you  _ cheating?’ ‘Why couldn't you have kept him down? But then again, how could someone like  _ you _ keep him down.’ _ and each time she responds with the same damn thing because of him. For him.

 

She is pitiful.

 

The school takes pity on her, the newest divorcee of one of the most powerful men in the country. The title leaves her bitter -- her situation, in general, leaves her bitter, but she doesn't question it, she plasters a golden smile on her face, mutters a few thank yous, and her salary gets raised, and she can live a little longer, and she is not satisfied.

 

She is avoidant.

 

The kids are kind, the kids are naive, the kids are oblivious and  _ her _ kids deserve the world.

 

Her little Angie is young and smart, and she  _ will _ change the world when she’s on the peak of the world, in her prime.

 

Angie asks questions. 

 

“What’s with, with, the guys asking you questions all the time, with the cameras?” Angie asks her one night, tucked in for sleep.

 

Eliza does not know the best course of action for educating a ten year old about divorce. “They’re nosy.”

 

“Is that so?”

 

Eliza purses her lips at her daughter’s curiosity and observance. She pats at the pillow, threading her hands through her girls hair, “Yes. Good night.”

 

Angie doesn't go to sleep that night.

 

She is curious.

 

Peggy is young, and wild, and fun, and spunky, and confident, and naive and reckless. 

Peggy said to her, before Eliza even got married “I’m planning it! Don’t you see, sis? One of these days, when I finish working on it, I will release it, and I’ll change the damn world, and there’ll be people inspired by  _ my work _ ! And, it’ll be a chain reaction of people like it, and the world will fuckin change, and I’ll be the source!” 

 

After all that has happened, Peggy has not yet released “it”, and Eliza has no idea what this brilliant “it” of her sisters is.

 

Eliza can try to be patient.

 

She is empty.

 

Philip’s a star. He’s everything Eliza could ever want in a child, and she hates it.

 

Philip reminds his mother of  _ him. _

 

She is envious of love.

 

Angel is brilliant. They are the sparkling star, the shining sibling, the smartest person that Eliza knows.

 

She’d do anything for them.

 

Angel falls in love. 

 

There’s a painter on the street corner. She paints something of a girl bumping into a man and show it to them.

 

There’s an artist who flirts with them. There’s a girl on the street corner who wants to know them. Ria is on the street corner and  _ loves  _ them.

 

Angel loves them as well.

 

Eliza distinctly remembers meeting Ria, and then meeting Angel  _ and  _ Ria, the package deal, the dynamic duo, the  _ soulmates _ .

 

She is still in love.

 

He is the talk of the city, the gossip around her because despite all that has happened they are still connected through the public eye.

 

He still smiles the same, and speaks the same and she  _ still _ loves him, she can't help it.

 

She doesn't know why they called it off in the first place, and she can't show her remorse and regret for the situation, and every time it is mentioned her temperament-- her  _ facade _ cracks and crumbles, and she keeps looking for ways to salvage it, and she is running out of possibilities.

 

She is burning.

* * *

She is young.

 

Maria Lewis is a new player in the game of the city, and she is not planning on being a puzzle piece. She gets a crappy apartment of the rim of the city, and she goes job hunting.

 

She is charismatic.

 

Or, Maria likes to believe she is. Maria schedules a phone appointment with a Mrs. Hamilton, and she is gonna get to work as an aide at the start of the school year.

 

She meets Mrs. Hamilton, on June 20th, at exactly 11:34 am when they bump into each other on the street. She has a boy with her, and papers clumsily stacked in the crook of her arm.

 

They do not speak, Mrs. Hamilton and the boy rush off to somewhere more important, more life changing then wherever Maria was planning on going. 

 

She assumes this is what love is.

 

Maria Lewis is currently living her life by coincidences. She bumps into a Mister James Reynolds on the sidewalk, and she finds herself in the silhouetted frame of a painting, drenched in shades new and indescribable to her.

 

He gives Maria his phone number, and they chat, and Maria finds herself smitten.

 

She is pitiful.

 

Mrs. Hamilton asks her if she has a degree when they talk over the phone, to which Maria’s mind clouds, and there are dreadful thoughts over taking her head. 

 

“I, uh, I don’t. Couldn’t afford it.” 

 

Maria senses the pursing of lips from the other side of her phone, because before Eliza was a Hamilton, she was a Schuyler, and she could afford it.

 

“Oh.” and that starts the wave of an idle silence and pity.

 

She is fucked.

 

There’s a bruise on the left side of her collarbone. She splashes more makeup on her face, sullies the sight of it, draws more attention to her face when they go out.

 

He yells at her when they get home, calls her… things she’d rather not repeat, and by tomorrow morning the has a matching bruise on the right side of her collarbone.

 

She is supportive.

 

Mrs. Hamilton becomes Ms. Schuyler.

 

Ms. Schuyler becomes Eliza.

 

They talk over the phone, and Eliza’s voice is deep and she sounds malcontent, and weak and pathetic and Maria believes her to be so strong.

 

“It’s shared custody?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, he gets them whenever he’s free. He’s gonna stay with them ‘till Monday, then they come back her.”

 

“Who’re the kids staying with most of the time?”

 

“Me, the kids are staying with me. I live closest to the school, and they don't need to be used as a pawn for his political enemies.”

 

“That’s,” and Maria doesn't have the best word for it? “It’s fuckin’ wild.”

 

Eliza chuckles at that, “I know.”

 

She is close to ruin.

 

James takes her out on a warm and bright night. He has it preplanned. 

 

He gets on his knee.

 

She doesn't say no.

 

She is ruined.

* * *

 

She is trifling.

 

Elizabeth Sanders is trying to get by for her children. She lives in a routine: wake up, do something with Will before he goes, pay the babysitter, go babysit another kid, come back, hang with Will or talk to Hercules, go to the diner, come back tired as hell and repeat the damn process and pretend to find satisfaction in it.

 

She used to be better.

 

Beth still considers her and Hercules friends… more like  _ “esteemed and friendly associates that are some what confidantes but no one will admit to it” _

 

Her conversations with him give her a twinge of nostalgia and regret, and she wants to move past it, but she is unable to.

 

She is busy.

 

Babysitting is a wild thing. Will is youthful and bright and optimistic, and he’s her boy, and she believes that he’ll be memorable, and significant, and he’ll be best. She’s used to him.

 

She, however, is  _ not _ used to other people’s children, and their kids habits and the rules of their household.

 

She meets people through this, though. It’s a delight to get through her loneliness.

 

There’s a young girl she has to take care of, and her mother is single, and stunning.

 

Beth believes these feelings to be platonic.

 

They are.

 

Aren’t they?

 

She is lonely.

 

The diner is doing alright, and the baby sitting is sending a steady flow of money her way. 

 

Will is a child, and he doesn't talk to her, he has nothing  _ to _ talk about. She has nothing to do in those off-moments, except to think. 

 

Beth prefers to not be alone in her thoughts, and she always finds herself in this  _ damn _ position and she wants to change it and she fucking can't and.

 

She doesn't want to think about it.

 

Beth babysits the same girl as last time, the girl with the mother who can simply  _ blink _ and would have the whole world fall in love-- except for Beth --and the woman says she’s going out… somewhere.

 

She doesn't question it.

 

She needs to practice more.

 

Beth doesn’t consider herself that adept at most things. She has a tendency to compare herself to people who she believes will always be better than her, and it leaves her in a maze of her thoughts, and her self loathing, and she wants to find the exit but she doesn't know where it is.

 

She drinks it away for a few months. There’s a luring aspect of it, the idea that you can just sort of… disconnect from the world. But it affects her life, it affects her  _ son _ .

 

It doesn’t affect the world.

 

The pretty lady who’s kid she babysits offers her a stash.

 

She is tempted, but she refuses. It’s better for another time.

 

Everything for her is better for another time.

 

She is waiting for it.

* * *

She is dependable.

 

It’s a compliment to her, and it seems to be intended--  _ ‘She is  _ so  _ loyal!’ _

 

Adrienne is said to have a big heart.

 

It’s an understandable statement, one she occasionally believes herself. She lives her life by a  _ why be rude when you could be nice  _ type of mindset.

 

It doesn't work most of the time.

 

She is quite madly in love.

 

Gil is sweet, and he’s kind, and he’s smart and he’s  _ hers _ , and she is  _ his _ . 

 

Until they aren’t, any more.

 

Gil proposes the idea of what he calls an open marriage to her during the summer. She doesn’t understand why he wanted this, why he didn't tell her sooner, why she wasn’t  _ enough _ . She nods in agreement, and that is her first regret.

 

She is growing.

 

Sometime after their… _ agreement,  _ Adri doesn’t find another partner to take up-- she doesn't consider herself polyamorous, and she doesn't want to have another lover in the first place. 

 

Gil worries about her, bless his soul, tends to her when he believes she needs it, and she pretends she doesn’t need it.

 

She throws herself into studying and learning. She starts visiting and volunteering at the local library, and the books about things she doesn't know about-- things she never had considered to  _ exist _ , and she is intrigued.

 

She doesn’t go to church as much.

 

The sermons don’t catch her interest anymore, it’s just repeating the same thing to her. She wants more.

 

She is horrible.

 

She goes out, alone, for once, and that single time ruined her life.

 

There’s a pretty woman taking shots at the corner of the bar whose smile could make the whole world fall in love.

 

Adri is staring at the girl, and the girl is staring back. Then the girl walks over to Adri’s stool and takes a seat.

 

“So,” and the lovely lady next to her is going for a generic pickup line, “You come here often?”

 

“No. I don’t come alone.”

 

The lady smiles at that, takes another shot of something, “You don’t have to be alone. I’m here.”

 

That, is how Adrienne ends up with another woman’s head between her thighs at 2 am, and how she wakes up in the bed of the same women at noon, the woman's phone number and name scribbled in pen on her arm. She writes  _ ‘’Martha’ _ in on her phone.

 

She doesn't know what to do.

 

She gets back home at 1 pm, and Gil is there, waiting for her, and she has nothing to say, not even when he cradled her in his arms and tells her it's alright.

 

She is decisive for once in her life.

 

The sermons are still boring to her, and she shouldn't find them as so, but she does.

 

She finds a book about Islam while volunteering at the library, and she spends the rest of the day there reading about it, and studying about it.

 

She talks to Gil about it, finds amusement in the way he tries to understand her studies.

 

She is on the sidelines.

 

One of Gil’s friends had a divorce, to which it becomes the talk of the city, and she is tired of it.

 

They don't take up partners for a while.

 

Adrienne contacts the local mosque in her city, schedules with an appointment with an Imam named Walid, and has made the most important decision of her life.

 

“I’m going to convert.” 

 

Gil is as supportive as he can be. It’s not enough. He gets her a scarf, and it’s the first one she ever wore as a hijab.

 

People glare at her on the street, avoid her, but she doesn't care

 

She does not need to.

* * *

She is miserable.

 

Martha Manning has been a “single” mother for years, and her daughter is her world. 

 

He sends money from wherever he is at the time, and her daughter and her can still get by.

 

Little Frances is gonna change the damn world, Martha would bet on it. Her girl’s got a good education, a good life. She’s quite spoiled, in reality, because Martha would do anything for her.

 

Martha doesn't work, doesn't really do anything but stay at home with Frances. She doesn't have the energy to do anything else. It’s a cycle, and she doesn't know how to describe it.

 

She is intelligent.

 

It’s something one of Frances’ teachers tell her,  _ ‘I can see where she got her brain from!’ _

 

Martha doesn’t consider herself intelligent, she doesn't have the degree to prove it, she never went because she had Frances to take care of, and she couldn't multitask by that.

 

People say she’s intelligent, but she feels as if they're obligated to say that she is, burdened to validate her petty emotions.

 

She hates herself.

 

She doesn't know what to do with herself when Frances is off at school. She is hard to entertain, and she hates herself for that. She doesn’t have any particular talents either, no activities or hobbies to practice. 

 

The first time Martha is able to find the will in herself to leave her bed, she goes to the pub. Men flirt with her, and she expects it. She doesn't love them, doesn't find attraction to them. She does, however, find the cute girl staring at her on the stool  _ very _ attractive.

 

She flirts with the girl, and ends up next to the wonderful girl-- Adrienne, in bed. Martha scribbles her number and name on Adri’s arm, in hopes that they’ll be in contact once again.”

 

She is active.

 

Martha gets a membership to the local gym.

 

The best part of it is the beautiful babysitter named Beth she hired. They exchange numbers-- just in case anything happens.

 

Martha wants to know her.

 

She gets to the low point of the cycle again, and she can't sleep or wake up. She is pathetic. She drinks more alcohol, gets Beth to babysit Frances while she goes outside the house and smokes. She get’s a stash, and hates what she’s doing, but she does it anyways.

 

She doesn't know how to respond when he calls her one day.

 

She hates him, and she needs him, and she cares about him, and she doesn't fucking know what is happening with her.

 

She has become a routinist, and it's all a damn cycle, her emotions and her  _ life _ . She needs something new. She needs  _ someone _ new.

 

Martha calls Beth and Adrienne and invites them to the bar for the night.

 

They accept, and she hopes it is enough.

* * *

 

Margarita was desperately in need of a Margarita, especially after being in the middle of her sister having a temper struggle, and her sibling sucking their partner’s face off.

 

“Can you please stop making out in front of the single people?” She asks her sibling and their girlfriend, exasperated.

 

“Don’t take your sexual frustration out on us!”

 

“There is a recent divorcee in the room! Don’t make it harder for Bets!” 

 

Angel moves onto the couch from where they were perching on Ria’s lap.

 

“Thank you.”

 

The phone had begun to ring, Eliza calling someone, “Are you here yet?”

 

A few noises erupt from the other side of the phone. Eliza purses her lips tightly at that, “Take your time, I’ll see you soon.” and hangs up the phone.

 

“Who was that?” Peggy asks

 

Eliza puts her phone down to charge and answers, “Maria Lewis.”

 

“Who’s that?”

 

“My student teacher, I’m helping her become a teacher. Haven't I mentioned her before?”

 

Peggy nods at that. “Mhm, you did, showed us a picture and everything.” She pauses, “I’d tap it if she wasn't single.”

 

“Peggy!” Eliza reprimands.

 

“What? Don't blame me for finding people attractive?” Peggy responds, leading to Eliza rolling her eyes.

 

“Do you know when we’re going to the bar?” Angel asks.

 

“Please do not make out with Ria at the bar.”

 

“Well fuck you too, Peggy.” Ria says.

 

“I’m just saying that if we can’t all make out, then none of us should--” Peggy’s idea is thwarted by a knock at Eliza’s apartment door.

 

“She’s here!” Eliza says, relieved. She opens the door, and Maria is in the hallway, and so is her fiancé.

 

“Be back before 1 am.” He says, before walking off without a goodbye.

 

“That’s dickish.”

 

Maria’s expression droops a bit at Peggy’s words, because they’re true.

 

“Maria, it’s a pleasure to meet you in real life. I’m Eliza.” Eliza extends a hand in greeting to Maria.

 

Maria shakes it, “Who else is here.”

 

Peggy shoots up from her seat on the couch to greet Maria, “Peggy.” she introduces herself, extending a fist for Maria to bump.

 

Ria raises her arm from her spot on the couch and waves her hand at Maria. “I’m Ria.”

 

“What’s that short for?” Maria asks.

 

“Maria.” 

 

“Oh.”

 

Angel stands up to go meet Maria. “My name is Angel, they/them.”

 

“Oh, I, it’s nice to meet you, Angel.”

 

“The feeling is mutual.”

 

“Now,” Peggy begins, “Can we go get hammered as hell at the bar. I’ve need a good drink for a good three weeks!”

 

They all murmur in agreement at Peggy’s words, and they head out to walk to the bar.

* * *

 

Martha is at the same corner of the same pub where she met Adri. She hasn't gotten a drink yet, waiting on her soberness before the other two come.

 

Beth arrives first, doesn't take a seat on the stool, but rather on the counter. “Who’s the other girl coming?”

 

“She’s great, you’ll love her, I promise.”

 

Beth snaps the bartender over, gets a random drink and chugs it.

 

Adrienne arrives, and isn't the same as when Martha first met her.

 

“Hello, it is nice to meet you.”

 

“Same here. Names Beth.”

 

“I’m Adrienne.”

 

“Adri,” Martha asks, “Do you want a drink?”

 

“I don’t drink anymore.”

 

“Oh.”

 

It’s silent for a while, and there isn't any conversation or connection between the three of them.

 

It’s not enough.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. 2: drink the whole night through

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "drink, drink, gonna drink tonight, gonna drink tonight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im back after a week! it's 5.6k words tho :)

"Where the hell is this damn bar? Do we really need to use a fuckin' GPS in order to get hungover as hell?" Peggy shouts, her annoyance blatant to anyone in sight.

 

“It is past 10:30 at night, Peggy. Calm the fuck down, please.” Eliza rubs her temples in exhaustion. She needed a drink or two-- _and_ two-- after chasing around the city for the bar that she had locked tight with nostalgia and memories and regrets.

 

Peggy’s expressions morphs into a scowl of annoyance at her older sister’s scolding. She should be used to it after all these years, but she’s matured more. Does her sister not see that? She rolls her eyes and clicks her tongue. She pulls out her phone, “What’s the address?” she asks.

 

“Do you not remember it?” Eliza asks her, recalling that Peggy was in attendance at the bar with her and Angel.

 

“Why should I? What happened there?” Peggy asks, walking backwards to look at her sister.

 

Eliza pulls Angel’s arm to bring them closer to her, and whispers in their ear, “Was Peggy there when we went here?”

 

Angel nods at that before replying, “She was, she just doesn't remember it cause she was really drunk,” They confirm, before removing their arm from Eliza’s grasp and pointing their noise at their second youngest sister, “You were there, you were drunk and can’t remember it.”

 

“I’m usually always drunk and don't remember shit, that seems likely.

 

“Of course, Peggy.” Angel responds, “We went to that bar after that one party at college, it was when…” and they begin to trail off, not knowing how to say this without hurting Eliza’s feelings.

 

Eliza knows that Angel believes that mentioning _him_ will have repercussions. “It was when I met Alexander for the first time.” She wants her siblings, her closest friends to think she’s not perturbed by the mention of him, that she is over him, so eventually she will be.

 

They don't believe it.

 

Maria is having thoughts of returning back to her home, making an excuse due to how detached she feels from the conversation between the siblings. She notices that Angel’s partner is scrolling on her phone besides her partner, looking up now and then to view the conversation. She doesn't belong here, she barely knows any of these people. She knows that Eliza is doing this to get to know her and be helpful-- which doesn't make sense, why would they get to know each other while getting extremely hungover and forgetting the whole deal-- so she thinks she should return the favor. Maria pulls out her phone, taps on the Maps app, and searches for the nearest ball. “I think I may know where it is.” She informs them.

 

“Thank _god!_ Bless you, girl, I need about seven thousand shots to make up for the past three months,” Peggy walks to Maria and wraps her arm around her shoulder, peeking to see her phone, “Where’s it at?”

 

Eliza, Angel and Ria all crowd around Peggy and Maria, peering at the small phone screen. “Is it just on the left corner of the next block?”

 

“Mhm, That’s the place!” Angel confirms as the group starts to turn to the next block and to the bar.

 

“Too bad Peggy won’t remember it.” Eliza says teasingly. Peggy smacks her shorter sister on the shoulder for that.

 

“Fuck off, Betsey!”

 

“Love you too!” Eliza says, giggling.

 

“I know you do! Everybody does!” Peggy tosses her hair a bit before entering the secluded and dimly lit bar and yelling, “What’s happening!”

 

* * *

 

 

She downs another drink, in attempt to down the awkwardness between the three women. Martha soon realized that chugging drinks and being a lightweight while in the company of a woman who she presumes is a heavyweight and another woman who doesn’t drink at all doesn't make it easier to start conversation, but instead makes the awkward conversation more embarrassing, and ups the ante of uninterest and disengagement.

 

Beth is careful with her alcohol intake for the night-- the last thing she needs is to be hungover when she has to work for a living. She isn’t the biggest fan of alcohol then she was a while ago, after her divorce. It was a nice pathway away from the real world, the bitter and strong taste of the alcohol on the tip of the tongue. She acts as if she doesn't miss it, and pretends to not be bothered by the pretty woman who’s drinking heavily and the gorgeous woman who doesn't drink any voluntarily.

 

Adrienne tries not to drink. She is really bad at trying at that, but she still puts the effort in to try not to drink any. It’s hypocritical, she knows, to judge people for drinking alcohol while occasionally drinking it herself. The least she can do is be polite to the other lovely women with her, despite the fact the other lovely with her are a one time fling and a stranger. However, Adri fancies herself a pleasant and charming woman, so she is trying to start a conversation.

 

“What’s so special about this place?” She asks, using her hand the gesture to the bar around them.

 

“Some important people met here I think?” Martha answers.

 

“Who did?”

 

Martha responds with a shrug, sipping her drink, her small fingernails tapping on the glass in a rhythm.

 

“Divorcees,” Beth says. Adri and Martha squint at her in confusion.

 

“What?”

 

“The Hamiltons.”

 

“Eliza and Alexander? This is where they met?” Adri asks. Beth nods, crossing her arms over her chest.

 

“Oh, they were so beautiful together! I don’t know what went wrong.”

 

“Wait, wait, hold the phone,” Martha interjects, “What happened to them?”

 

“Did you not hear?” Adri questions.

 

“I guessed that everyone in this damn world knew, it was a big thing,” Beth says.

 

“I don’t really give a shit about all that jazz,” Martha drapes a hand across her chest, her drink hovering near her hip.

 

“They got divorced a few months ago,” Adri informs her, moving closer to her stool.

 

“Why?”

 

“No one knows,” Beth takes a small sip of her drink, “They haven't released that much information to the public. There’s a lot of speculation about it. I’m sure there close friends know.”

 

“No, no, not the close friends,” Adri shakes her head at Beth’s words, unreasonably exasperated and disposed, “My husband doesn’t know.”

 

“Maybe they aren't that close.”

 

“You’re fucking married?”

 

Adrienne forgot to mention that. “It’s an open one!”

 

“What the fuck is an open marriage?”

 

“You can be married to one of your partners while dating others,” Adri explained.

 

Martha’s head tilts to one side in confusion. “Then what's the point of being married?”

 

Adri flushes in shame and in anger, her nose scrunching up, “For _reasons_.”

 

Martha lowers her eyes in regret, taking a sip of her drink, “Sorry, sorry, didn’t know,” She pauses, eyes shifting across the room, “I'm gonna go to the restroom.”

 

Adri’s eyes soften, but she remains silent, and gestures over at the bartender for a shot.

 

“I thought you didn't drink?” Beth asks teasingly.

 

“I need it.”

 

Beth rolls her eyes at that, setting down her own drink. “How’s the marriage?”

 

“It’s alright.”

 

“What do you mean by that?” Beth asks, unintentionally intrusive.

 

“I mean that it is alright.”

 

“Are you taking up other partners currently?” Beth moves her stool closer to Adri’s. She likes to consider herself an observant person, reading people as if they were easy to understand metaphors you wrote in middle school.

 

“No,” Adri answers, cautious of her answer. There are some things that people do not need to be aware of.

 

“I think an open marriage would be nice. Better than not being married.” Beth comments stoically.. Adri doesn't point out the issue with Beth’s last statement, doesn't find starting shit after knowing a woman for an hour is the best course of action.

 

She steers the conversation between them away from her open marriage, “You're not married?”

 

“Nah, not anymore. Got divorced around a year ago in Spring.” Beth tells her, faking a sense of nonchalance about it.

 

“Oh. That’s unpleasant,” Adri clicks her tongue, taking another sip of the drink and darting her eyes to the restroom. She sighs, “What happened?”

 

Beth is aware that the question was coming, and she’s fine with flaunting her dirty laundry around after figuring out that not many people care. “He just didn’t think it was working out. I’m not sure why.” She adjusts her seating and closes her eyes for a brief moment of serenity. “We have shared custody.”

 

“You have a kid?” Adri asks, surprised. Beth responds by nodding solemnly. “So do I!” Adri excitedly tells her.

 

“That’s nice, what’s your kid’s--” Beth is interrupted by noticing that Martha is to rejoin them soon, walking over to the other ladies slouching.

 

“What’s up?” Martha asks upon her return, signaling the bartender to pour her another drink.

 

“Are you married or divorced?”

 

Well _fuck._ She hadn’t been expecting that. An expression of shock and confusion appear on her face, along with thoughts prodding in her head at why they were wondering it, and some wishful thinking that they were interested in her romantically. She drives the idea out of her head--she has only just gotten to know them. The question itself, leaves her frazzled and sour. The mere mention of something that reminds her of her… _‘marriage’_ leaves her bitter and unsatisfied. She knows what she has to do, knows that she has a reputation to protect, “No. I’m neither.” And the fact that she’s _‘being secretive’_ to them makes her sick to her stomach. She has never been a huge fan of keeping secrets-- _lying_ \-- but she has to do what she must to keep living.

 

“Oh, alright,” Beth says as Martha’s expression calms, “You got any guy that interests you?”

 

“I am a lesbian.”

 

“Oh. That’s nice. Do you have any girls that interest you?”

 

“Yeah, two of ‘em,” Martha says, trying to get the other two to take a hint. When they don’t, she grimaces, “I think they might not like girls though.”

 

“That sucks, I’m sorry.”

 

Martha doesn’t make the attempt to stop the snarky and spiteful thoughts coming into her head. What does stop it, however, is the chimes of the bar door opening and closing and a girl hooting “What’s happening!”

 

The three women turn around in their chair as a reaction to the sudden noise.

 

“Who the fuck is that? I’m not drunk enough for this shit!” Martha groans, exasperated and tired.

 

Beth turns her head from Martha to look at the group of young people entering the bar, “Listen, I don’t wanna be rude, but they all look so young, is it even legal for them to drink?”

 

Adri stands from the table and rests her palm on the curve of Beth’s shoulder and lowers her head to whisper into her ear, “That’s Eliza!”

 

“Holy shit.”

 

“I’m gonna go try to talk to her!” Adri says gleefully.

 

* * *

 

Maria covers her ears after Peggy’s loud shout of excitement. It rings in her ears relentlessly. “Can you be more quiet?”

 

“Sorry!” Peggy calls back.

 

“It’s okay,” Maria’s eyes scavenger through the uneasily empty bar, “Is this place usually empty?”

 

“Yeah,” Angel says, their hand intertwined with Ria’s, “It being empty isn't a symbol for the service, it’s actually really great here,” Angel and Ria sit down at a booth near the bartender, “What drinks do you want?”

 

“All of them.” Peggy deadpans.

 

“No.”

 

“Yes. _All_ of them.”

 

Angel rolls their eyes at their younger sister’s  nonsense. “What do you want, Maria?”

 

“I’m sorry, but I don’t drink.” Her answer leaves the rest of the table looking at her in bewilderment and confusion.

 

“Wait, whoa, let me get the hang of this.” Peggy raises one hand to her face and begins to rub her temple, “If you don’t drink, then why did you decide to come to the bar?”

 

Maria flushes in embarrassment from her neck to the tip of her toes. Her real reasons for coming are too personal for them to know.

 

“I invited her,” Bless her, Eliza steps in to defend Maria, “I wanted everyone to get to know her.”

 

Maria leans close to Eliza and whispers “Thanks.” in a measly and hurt voice. Eliza returns the favor by rubbing a hand comfortingly up and down her thigh for a couple of seconds before Maria pulls away. She had never been the fondest of intimacy before.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I forgot about that,” Peggy days before lowering her eyes in shame. “Sorry about that.”

 

“It's fine.”

 

“So,” Angel starts, holding onto Ria’s arm, “We’re gonna go order drinks--”

 

“--I’m coming with you two!” Peggy interjects suddenly, “So you don’t make out in front of the bar tender!”

 

“Sure, Peggy.” Ria says, poker-faced.

 

“We have more self control then that. _A lot_ more self control then that.”

 

“ _And,”_ Peggy says, making things up, “I need to order for myself!” She stands suddenly, pressing hands to Angel and Ria’s backs, “Let’s go!”

 

“Same as usual!” Eliza calls after them. Angel extends their hand back and gives their sister a thumbs-up as Maria fidgets a bit in her chair.

 

“I don’t think Peggy likes me.”

 

“No, no. She’s just…” Eliza begins to trail off before continuing, “She doesn’t really read people’s emotions that well. She doesn’t notice stuff at first. She’s… impulsive. Doesn’t think before she acts, she’s always done that,” Eliza pauses to take a brief break to glance at her younger sister. It’s disrespectful and rude to think of her sister like this-- _hypocritical_ considering her own past actions-- but she’s wondering when her sister will get it together, and she’s starting to tire from waiting. She return her eyes down to her lap, “She’s working on it. I think.” She hopes.

 

Maria chuckles softly, a wave of empathy coming over her, “We might have that in common,” She pauses, taking a deep breath before murmuring softly, “Thank you for defending me.”

 

“You already thanked me!” Eliza says, giggling and not quite understanding Maria’s plight. Maria’s eyes harden in disappointment. She should’ve predicted Eliza wouldn’t get what she was really trying to say, it was idiotic for her to assume so.

 

“No, no, it’s not like that,” Maria doesn’t know the best interlude into something as serious as… whatever she’s dealing with. She doesn't know what it is, it's like a scar that you get when you didn't even hurt yourself, or when you brace yourself for the worst and still expect the damn best, “No.” She stutters, the words are choking her, the rope of her life is finally starting to tighten around her neck, and she’s glad her lungs are giving out, “It’s just. No one’s ever defended me before.”

 

Eliza is awestruck by her words. She reacts delicately to the situation-- clearly this is something that Maria had chose to solely confide in her, displaying her surprise would only deteriorate Maria’s trust in her. She doesn’t need that. “Well, I would do it again.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“Eliza!” There’s a call from the opposite end of the bar, the voice is accented thickly.

 

Maria perks up at the mention of Eliza’s name, curious of who it is and why they know of each other. “Who was that?”

 

Eliza gives a pathetic shrug as a reply, “I’m not sure?” Her statement comes out as a question, “I don’t think they were calling me. Elizabeth’s a common name.”

 

Maria squints her eyes to observe where the sound came from. “The lady who called, she’s wearing one of those headscarf things? I forgot the name,” There’s the noise of a shifting chair next to Maria, but she doesn't comment on it. “There’s other girls with her, do you know them?” She draws back to look at Eliza, only to find she isn't present at the moment, but is instead walking towards the random woman at the end of that darkly lit and empty bar. “Eliza? _Eliza!_ ” She begins to rush over to Eliza, coming up right behind her.

 

Maria can't have one, but she really needs and deserves a drink right about now.

 

Eliza is throbbing with ecstasy, something incessant in her veins, as if she was at the peak of being lit on fire. She hadn’t see a familiar face that wasn’t personal family or diluted by drama. She especially had not interacted with this particular woman in a while.

 

The hijab was new, and so were the two fairly attractive women accompanying her. She had recalled something of a deal striking with her husband, the consideration of an open marriage. She wouldn’t be shocked if those were her new partners.

 

“Adrienne!” She cried, overjoyed at the sight of a former close friend.

 

“Oh, Eliza, it’s been _far_ too long! How are you?”

 

Eliza takes a wild guess that saying ‘ _Oh, yes, I want to constantly scream and light the world on fire, what about you? How are the kids?’_ Isn't the most ideal way to reconnect with an old friend. “I am fine, how about you?”

 

Adri knows she’s lying-- _everyone_ does, but they don't tell Eliza because everyone has mutually come to the agreement that she doesn’t need to know. It isn’t as if Adrienne isn't lying as well

 

“I’ve been wonderful the past few days!”

 

“That’s great! I’m so glad for you!” Eliza knows she’s not telling the truth, and she knows even better that everyone is aware of the fact she isn't. They’re just pitying her ‘ _tragic and sudden loss of love’_ but she knows people could care less about how she actually felt, not if they could exploit the _‘saddened_ _and under-performing lover_ ’ perspective from her. It’s a thing she notices everywhere, and she’s been more aware and analytical of it since she’s fallen prey to being used for that angle. It’s as if she were to be a statue that’s arm had fallen off, poor and depressed yet beautifully tragic and inspiring. She’s envious of many things-- and she knows she doesn't have the right and shouldn't have the nerve to feel this way, but she can not help it. The least she can do is keep up a pleasant and warm portrayal to the public.

 

Her eyes flicker to to the women beside Adrienne-- a lithe and slender thing and a stout one, “Who are these?” She asks, using her fingers to address the women.

 

The thin one, rake like at worst raises two fingers and starts to scurry them back and forth, “Martha Manning.”

 

“It’s wonderful to meet you!”

 

“Vice versa.”

 

The shorter of the two brings a hand for Eliza to shake, “Elizabeth Sanders. Call me Beth.”

 

The mention of the name gives Eliza a resurgence of memories. She hadn’t met the woman prior to this event, but had heard stories about her that her former husband would relay to Alex.

 

Those stories we’re always the funniest.

 

Especially when _he_ told them.

 

“Oh, yes! I’ve heard of you before! You’re--”

 

Beth cuts her off, “--Mulligan’s ex, in the flesh.”

 

“Oh. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Eliza says, extending an arm to shake Beth’s.

 

“Listen, the pleasures all mine,” Beth takes Eliza's arm and pulls her in closer, out of close ear-shot, “What’s with the kid trailing behind you?”

 

 _Maria._ In a haste of reunion, Eliza had forgotten about who she planned to make the night about. She reels her arm over to Maria, taking a hold of Maria’s wrist for a second before the girl breaks out suddenly and harshly using a defense tactic. The girl’s eyes are sewn together by mistrust, laced by hurt and misery. She rubs on her own wrist for a bit before turning around and introducing herself, “Maria. Lewis, Maria Lewis.”

 

“It’s great to meet you!”

 

Maria responds with a bitter smile. She hasn't met this much people in a day-- in a _month_. She’s always leaned more to the side of introversion, especially after entering a relationship. Intimacy is a frightening and foreign concept to her at the moment.

 

“Where’s your siblings? Are they here?” Adri asks Eliza. Eliza points back at the bar, to Peggy listing off orders on the tips of her fingers and Angel and their partner leaning on the bar rail.

 

Martha peers over, “That looks like it’s gonna take a long ass time.”

 

“It already has!” Eliza turns back to her, chuckling. That leads to an eruption of laughter from the majority of the group.

 

“We should go over there.” Beth says, intrigued.

 

“It’s too far!” Martha complains, “I’m too drunk for this, man.” Adri pats her head to express sympathy.

 

As the group begins to stagger towards the counter, Maria finds herself moving faster towards the counter. She’s muddled and disconnected from the group-- she’s a puzzle piece that fits, but isn't in from the same group as the others. She doesn’t plan on speaking that much tonight.

 

When she arrives at the counter, she finds Angel and Peggy in an argument.

 

“Listen, We’re fucking _rich!_ I can get all the drinks we want!” Peggy says, moving her arms around in a form of annoyance.

 

“I _know!_ But I’m not gonna let my younger sister get _mother-fucking_ alcohol poisoning!” Angel moves closer to Peggy-- despite her being taller than them-- and crosses their arms over their chest, “Don’t order everything.”

 

Peggy raises their arms in exasperation and defeat, “Fine, Fine! I’ll just get some shots.”

 

“Good,” Angel’s expressions softens into a smile, “I’m glad you’ve decided to listen, Marg.” They wrap an arm around their sister's shoulder.

 

“Did you two realize that Maria was watching your entire,” Ria raises her hands and makes quotation marks on her fingers, “ _Argument_.”

 

Peggy and Angel’s eyes dart over to stare at the spectator. Peggy reaches over for a shot before awkwardly saying, “Hi.”

 

Maria raises a hand and waves before responding “Hello.” in a small voice.

 

“Amazing. Wonderful. A touching reunion. Can we go back to the booth?” Ria says sardonically.

 

“Wait,” Maria interjects, “Where’s Eliza?”

 

“Here! Here, I’m here!” Eliza runs up behind Maria, the other three trailing close behind. She begins adjusting her chin on Maria’s shoulder, “What happened? Did I miss somethin’ important?” She’s slurring her words.

 

“Wait, who are they? Is today _Meet New People Day_ or something?” Ria asks, in confusion and nonchalance.

 

Eliza gasps at that, her cheeks flushing scarlet as she begins to giggle, “Oh, yes! That’s Adrienne, Beth and Martha.” She points at them.

 

“Oh, my god! Adri, I didn’t know you converted?” Angel pipes up, interested and delighted, “How are you?”

 

“Angel! It’s wonderful to meet you once again! I converted a few months ago.” Adri says, moving over to hug them. “Who’s this?” She points at Ria.

 

“This,” Angel pulls Ria close to themselves, “Is my girlfriend, Ria”

 

Ria extends a hand, “Great to meet you!” Adri responds by smiling.

 

They all shuffle into the booth. It’s a tight fit, but it’s good for now.

 

“First things first,” Peggy says, sticking her arm out, “Does anyone have any drinks that they would voluntarily donate to me.”

 

“ _P_ _eggy.”_

 

 _“_ Angel, please, it’s for a good cause!”

 

“Why don’t you just go order another one?” Martha asks.

 

“Don’t encourage her!” Angel scolds.

 

“Nah, I’m too damn lazy to move over there.” Peggy says lazily. Beth passes her a drink that she chugs immediately.

 

“Thank you very much, kind soul.”

 

“Welcome. I can’t get hungover today, I have a kid to take care of.”

 

“Really? I have two!” Eliza slurs happily.

 

“Everyone knows that.”

 

“Yeah, but I can get hungover if I wanna, Alex can take care of them for me. He wants to spend more time with them.”

 

“How is he? Did you get any word from him?” Adri asks.

 

Eliza lets out a breathy, shallow and loud laugh. “No, I haven’t in awhile. I can find out though, just read the local newspaper.”

 

“Have the kids seen him in awhile?”

 

“Yeah, they stayed with him last weekend. This miss him, but hey, what can I do?” Eliza answers. She’s as bitter as the drink she’s holding in her hand. “How’s Gil?” She asks.

 

“He’s well. I think he’s considering taking up another partner.”

 

“That's…” Martha trails off, “I don't know.”

 

Adri wraps an arm around her shoulders, “Neither do I!”

 

Ria interjects, “I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Angel nods in agreement.

 

“You know,” Martha starts, “Going back to the thing about hangovers, I think I fucked up.”

 

“How so?” Adri asks.

 

“It’s ‘cause I gotta spend the day with my kid, and I’m certain I got hungover as hell already.”

 

“I wish I could get hungover,” Peggy says. “I can't because _somebody_ ,” She side eyes her older sibling, “Won’t let me get anymore drinks.”

 

Angel rolls their eyes at their sisters grudge. “Do you want some of mine, sis?” They ask.

 

“Don’t mind if I do!”

 

“Being a divorcee kind of fucking sucks.” Eliza comments dejectedly.

 

“ _Kind of?"_  Beth questions, “Let me tell you, being a divorcee sucks. You got it harder though, everyone’s trying to get into your damn life.”

 

Eliza nods at that.

 

“You know what's worse?” Martha asks to no one in particular, twirling a loose hair strand before laying her hands harshly on a table, “Being a _single_ mom.”

 

Her comment makes the table burst with commentary.

 

“Don’t remind me!” Beth shouts in annoyance, “I have two fucking jobs to take care of my kids! I’m getting way too tired for this shit, but I need to be able to live”

 

“I can relate,” Eliza says, patting Beth’s arm and leaning a head on her shoulder. Beth wraps and arm around her, “It’s like they don't even give a shit about me, just who I used to be?”

 

“Who’d you used to be?” Beth asks, aware of the answer.

 

“ _His_ wife!”

 

Beth gives a hearty laugh and pulls Eliza closer to her, a bond beginning to form.

 

“Listen, at least you had someone to begin with!” Martha complains, “I never had anyone there for me, and let me tell you, trying to relate to a child is hard as fuck in your late twenties!”

 

“How’d you even get your kid? Is that to personal to ask?” Peggy questions.

 

Martha narrows her eyes and grins at Peggy, punching her lightly in the arm, “Kid, you got spunk and spirit, but you _really_ need a filter before you stray too far from your lane.”

 

“Sorry!”

 

“Don't fret about it, my stories generic as fuck anyways. In college I realized I was a lesbian, got mad at myself for being one, had a one night stand with a guy to make myself heterosexual, but instead got pregnant. It was during my last year.”

 

“I’m a lesbian too!” Peggy declares excitedly.

 

“Same. We need a fourth member, we can be like, the lesbian musketeers.” Ria says.

 

Eliza is stirring her drink around when she says, “One of my coworkers is a lesbian.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Her name’s Dolley. I think she has a crush on me. I don’t feel the same. I like girls, just not her.”

 

“Is she cute?” Peggy asks.

 

“I guess? Depends on the person.”

 

“Give her my number.”

 

“I’ll do it when I see her next, Peg.”

 

“No, you don't understand!” Peggy says hurriedly, “I haven’t been with someone since _college_! I am malnourished of mutual love and respect!”

 

Eliza perks an eyebrow up. “How do you know she’d be interested?”

 

“I like to pretend everyone is.”

 

Martha raises a glass towards her, “Good tactic.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“How are you?” Adri asks to no one in particular.

 

“Who’re you speaking to?” Ria questions back.

 

“Maria.”

 

Oh _yeah._ Everyone’s eyes dart over to her, scrunched up in the corner, scrolling on her phone. Maria looks up at the eerie silence. “Hey,” she says, extending the quiet, “Did something bad happen?”

 

The rest of the group awkwardly look at each other.

 

Peggy perks up with, “How’s your boyfriend?”

 

“Fiancé.”

 

“Fiancé, yeah, whatever, how is he?” Peggy repeats.

 

“He’s good. He wants me to be home soon, I should get going,” She pauses and purses her lips, “Maybe we should all get going.”

 

The rest of the group stare at each other before Beth grabs hold of her jacket and says, “I need to go to, it was great meeting you all.”

 

They all stagger home and pass out after that.

 

* * *

 

“Mommy? Mommy? Are you awake yet?”

 

Martha rubs her eyes and the first thing she notices is that she has a fucking hangover, as she had predicted the night prior. How delightful.

 

She rolls over to face her girl, “Yeah, baby, I’m awake. Is something wrong?”

 

Frances’ shakes her head incessantly, her curls bouncing, “No, I just wanted to make sure if you were awake.”

 

Martha puts her hand on the back of her daughter's neck, pulling her in for a kiss on the forehead before blowing raspberries into her neck. She rubs at her own eyes again and yawns, “Can you go get me a cup of water and that small white bottle with the yellow label? Thanks kid.”

 

Frances’ hurries out to go get it. Martha checks her phone, sees a text from Adri telling her she's sleeping in today. Frances rushes back in with the medicine and water, and pecks her mother on the cheek. Martha knows her kid deserves the world, the stars and the sky. She knows her kid deserves better than what she has.

 

* * *

 

Beth rushes out of bed, having forgotten to set an alarm clock the former night. Her kid is already awake, lying on the couch with a bowl of cereal on his lap, watching some random Saturday morning cartoon.

 

“Hey.” She says.

 

“Hi Mom. I didn't know if you wanted to be woke up or not.”

 

“Well,” she grabs her coat and hangs it on her arm, “From now on, assume I wanna be woken up, ok?”

 

“Sure, Mom.”

 

Beth moves closer to him, pecking him all over his face, “Stay safe-- don't open the door if anyone knocks, and don't answer any numbers if you don't know them, and don't eat everything! I have to go, honey, do you need anything?”

 

“When will you come back before going to the diner?” He asks.

 

“Around 6:30.”

 

“That’s late.” He comments.

 

“It’s a short order world, kiddo. Love you, bye.” She says, before walking out and shutting the door.

 

* * *

 

 

“Alright, I have to go get some supplies for work, but be good to your Aunt Peggy, ok?” Eliza says, kneeling down towards her kids heights. They nod. “Alright, ok, go on the couch and watch TV or something. Your aunts gonna be here in a--”

 

She’s interrupted by a knock at the door “--Right now.” She finishes.

 

Peggy is doing a dramatically awkward pause as she leans on the door. “Guess which best aunt is back. It’s me!” She exclaims excitedly before walking in.

 

Peggy moves towards her older sister and pulls her into a hug, “Go before the subway gets too full!” and then pushes her out the door and locks it,

 

Subways are infuriating. It’s not exactly something she wants to spare her patience for. She gets a seat, luckily enough, and is squashed between two people she doesn't know and staring straight ahead at a rail.

 

All this for a couple fucking stacks of paper and some highlighters.

 

“Eliza!”

 

She’d recognize that voice from _anywhere_.

 

Dolley Payne is a co-worker of hers, one of the fourth grade teachers. They have similar figures and excellent chemistry.

 

“I didn’t know I was the only one in desperate need of school supplies,” Dolley says, leaning on the rail in front of Eliza, gripping onto it with her arm.

 

“Those kids go through them like birds when you throw bread crumbs at them! The school board should start donating these to us by now!” Eliza complains to her.

 

“Tell me about it! I’m getting some stuff for Theo as well, she’s with her boyfriend.”

 

“They’re cute together.”

 

“They are! Love in general is cute,” Dolley pauses and braces herself, “You know James?”

 

“Which one?”

 

“My best friend.”

 

“Madison, of course! Love him.”

 

“I think he has a crush on your ex.”

 

 _That,_ was unexpected. Eliza criticizes herself for not guessing that this would happen sooner-- _everyone_ had felt some sort of attraction to Alexander. How couldn't you? And he isn't exactly _hers_ , anymore, yet she still can't stop herself from easing into slight jealousy and possessiveness at those words.

 

“How nice.” She says, and she doesn't speak for the rest of the ride.

 

* * *

 

Maria can’t leave the apartment if she wanted to. She was lucky enough to not disobey her fiancé and not get drunk, but despite how awkward and disjointed she felt last night, she felt so comforted by the fact that these people wanted to know her. She’d never gotten this vibe from the man she is soon to be wedded to, always something more protective and possessive, and she can't decide which is worse or better.

 

She’s on James’ lap, her head tucked under his chin as he's watching some news show, devoid of any interest.

 

“I was thinking about something.” He says.

 

“About what?”

 

“I was thinking that we should move up the wedding date.”

 

“Why so?”

 

“I want you to be mine sooner than later. Are you fine with that.”

 

Maria shivers over his use of the word _mine._ It leaves her adorned with goosebumps, very worried and fearful.

 

But she can't say no.

 

“I’d like-- _love_ that. We can elope, or something like that.”

 

He turns her around on his lap and puts his attention towards her neck, and she is so much more ruined than before.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope yall enjoyed reading! im on tumblr @garnetcomets

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading <3
> 
> i'm on tumblr @garnetcomets


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